


Bars and Bards

by SunflowerSpectre



Series: Works of 2020 [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Other, brief allusion to some people hooking up, mentions of drunks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22474624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSpectre/pseuds/SunflowerSpectre
Summary: A mercenary that doubles as a bard and an adventurer that moonlights as a smuggler walk into a bar to learn elvish.
Series: Works of 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611430
Kudos: 1





	Bars and Bards

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gifted piece for someone who had wanted this with their D&D OC.

To be honest, it is a fifty-fifty shot that Bayleaf will even enter the bar, nevertheless actually teach Dia elvish. Dia was adamant that they would pay him for it, but so far no coins have exchanged hands, which meant their deal is not exactly set in stone. But the party is going to be here for a while it seems and knowing how busy things could get, Dia doubts that they would get another chance to actually sit down and learn the language any time soon. 

They shouldn’t really care this much about it, and they don’t, not really. But Dia doesn’t exactly like being inconvenienced when they make plans with someone, and they do want to learn elvish and finding a teacher whose willing is harder than they would like. 

Their hand fiddles with the loose coin in their pocket, tracing over its engraved features. They wave the bartender over and make their order simple with the hopes that they won’t be waiting long. 

“Diamond,” a vaguely familiar, but somewhat forgotten, voice calls out, smiling eagerly as he makes his way toward her.

Dia vaguely recalls his face, and when they stare at it long enough they can see the similarities between him and his cousin. Elam only introduced them once, offhandedly, when they got into town, as a cousin of his, and Dia is fairly sure that their name was only said once during the entire exchange. She has to give a bit of credit to him for remembering it considering she’s drawing a blank on the name Elam gave and vaguely wonders if Elam actually  _ did _ give them his name.

“Jeb. We met before, remember? But you had your hands full with that party of yours, lotta new people comin’ in lately, but I don’t think any of ya will be stayin’ too long if you’re the adventuring sort, but some of these people ...”

He trails off a bit, but Dia nods in a somewhat understanding. A lot of new travelers can, at times, bring trouble. For them, it can be something that is easily taken care of with a knife, or a good kick to the head when needed. But for the locals -  _ alone, orphaned locals, locals that can’t protect themselves -  _ Dia can imagine it could be a bit harder for them to tame the outlaws that come into town and trash it, or worse. 

Then again, they’re not against being a hired hand or a hired guard if someone is truly troubled. Troublesome people in town can mean some good jobs - though the more Dia thinks about it, the more they realize that there are bound to be some good jobs and not just from the locals.

“Are you waiting for someone,” Jeb looks around, as if he could spot Bayleaf despite not knowing who Dia is waiting for, “Didn’t get stood up on a date, I hope.”

Dia snorts, almost breaking into a laugh, and gives Jeb a friendly smile, “No date, just a lesson plan. I’m just hoping my teacher comes before I have too much of the ale.”

Jeb gives a hearty laugh at that comment, “I don’t know, I think some folks learn a bit easier after they get a few drinks in them.”

Deciding that they can not really disagree with that logic, Dia nods in agreement as Jeb takes a seat next to her as he talks animatedly, his hands moving with each word. Dia listens as much as they can, but a few things go missed due to how fast Jeb talks, jumping from topic to topic before they can process the previous one. He talks loudly, with passion, and draws a few stares their way that Dia does their best to turn away from, shrinking from the attention.

Despite that, Jeb’s company is not completely unwelcome as he provides decent company and a conversation while Dia waits for their teacher. Dia comments on a few things here and there, but is content to just listen as they drink and eat their way through their order. Jeb eagerly tells them all about the town, which shopkeepers are easier to bargain with, which inns are the cheapest, and how some of the folk are more eager for a good trade than coin. Somehow, he manages to slip in town gossip between the helpful spouts of information that Dia could actually use since they are not too keen on knowing exactly which shopkeeper is having an affair. 

Jeb stops their conversation, practically mid-rant, when he spots someone at the bar. He watches them closely with squinted eyes that wrinkle and crease before he seems to recognize them. He hops up with an apology, giving a friendly pat to Dia’s shoulder.

“Hand on, lil’ Diamond. I think I spot an ol’ friend over there and they have a habit of disappearin’ on me quick if I don’t stop ‘em. If that teacher of yours doesn’t show up soon, just give me a holler.”

Dia watches him depart to the opposite side of the bar, waving toward a man who looks surprised - and mildly uncomfortable - at spotting Jeb. She snorts over the edge of her mug and after a moment of watching the way that the other man is trying to slide away from Jeb’s hug, they turn their attention toward the door as if Bayleaf will walk through any second now that they do not have any present company. 

Dia vaguely wonders just how much longer they should hold up their hope that Bayleaf will come. If Bayleaf stands them up, they would have more than a few choice words to say to him. Maybe they could try to get Bayleaf to pay off the bar tab if they play their cards right, as a matter of respect.

Dia’s eyes nonchalantly wander around the bar, taking in its patrons. They spot two people in the dark corner that seem like they are about two full pints away from having a _ really good _ time together. Dia keeps their gaze on them for a good moment before giving the two strangers privacy when their tongues start to lock on each other. They give the pair about ten minutes before it gets so risue that the staff will kick them out; granted this means that the staff would actually have to  _ notice _ them first.

Dia spots another pair that’s not getting along as well in the opposite corner and they can catch enough of the conversation to know what’s going on. Of course, it doesn’t take a genius to put it together when the more feminine of the pair slaps the other and slams a piece of a rejected jewelry on the counter before storming out of the bar. Dia snorts when it takes all but two minutes before the one left is flirting with the curvy barmaid. 

No one else in the bar holds more than about ten seconds of their attention. Two passed out drunk and about five others looking about one pint away from doing the same. A few stumble in and out of the bar as the sun begins to set. If not for the good ale and at least edible food that isn’t rations, Dia would already be heading out as their hope of Bayleaf showing up dwindles rapidly. 

Dia briefly spots Jeb again at the bar - his ‘old friend’ had apparently disappeared and Dia can’t spot them in the bar. They wonder if Jeb scared them off, or if Jeb’s short attention span had just shifted long enough for the man to escape. Either way, Jeb seems quite happy to talk the ear off the bartender, who nods as they clean a mug with a dirty rag. Jeb briefly catches their gaze and she raises her mug at him in acknowledgement and the gesture is returned with a slightly drunk smile.

Dia is about finished up the sandwich and they are already ordering a third thing of ale when Bayleaf strolls in through the doorway. His green curls barely brush against the edges of his shoulders, though it does not stop him from preening it like a bird strutting its feathers as he struts through the bar with his head head. But Dia finds the gleam in his eyes a bit hollow.

He gives a flirtatious wink to the barmaid handling a nearby table, making Dia roll their eyes at the way the barmaid giggles with flushed cheeks, before he finally takes a seat by Dia at the bar. He barely acknowledges Dia’s presence, not offering any form of greeting. Dia snorts at the way he sits on the stool, straight and stiff with his shoulders pulled back as if he is carrying a weight that is heavier than just his hair. Alternatively, the weight on Dia’s shoulders becomes lighter as they relax into their seat.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” Dia comments casually, the mug in their swaying as they speak. 

Bayleaf eyes the drink, briefly wondering just how much they have had. While he wouldn’t necessarily care if Dia got hammered, he is not a big fan of trying to teach a new language to a drunk; not to mention that as sloppy as drunks are, they are more likely to try something. Though, it could be an act, a way for him to relax in a bar of an unfamiliar town with unfamiliar people. 

“I’m an elf of my word, you offered to pay me to teach you elvish, so here I am.”

He leans back in his seat as he gestures toward himself with a wave of a polished hand. He catches the eye of the barman, trying to nod him over, but the barman either does not notice, or is choosing to ignore him. Thick eyebrows furrow as he sits up straighter, tapping the bar as a way to signal he’s wanting a drink.

“You’re pretty late for someone who is so eager to get paid.”

Dia takes a large drink of their ale, but Bayleaf just eyes them from the corner of his eyes with a sly grin.

“I can’t be late if a certain someone only gave me a location and not a time.”

Dia does not bother to argue, they thought it was pretty obvious that they wanted him there before sundown, but it was never explicitly said. Details are always everything in the world that they live in, with everyone’s second nature is knowing how to find loopholes and fuck over the person you’re ‘partners’ with. They should know better than to expect anything better from a hired helping hand. But still, he showed up, didn’t he?

Dia shifts their pockets before tossing him a small bag of coins. Bayleaf catches it easily, feeling the weight in his palm before looking at Dia with a raised brow. 

“You’ll get the rest  _ after _ you teach me.”

“And what if you happen to be unteachable?”

_ It would say more about you as a teacher than me as a student,  _ Dia can’t help but to think. They don’t know anything about Bayleaf’s teaching ability, but Dia has been wanting this for a long time. The usefulness of actualling knowing elvish varies greatly, it’s something that they are actually  _ excited _ for. They are more than willing to put in the work if he is.

Dia meets his gaze evenly, and for a moment, the idea of letting their eyes change into their natural form passes through their mind. It would be easy to let the dark void roll over their eyes. The level of intimidation and fear that the sheer endless darkness in their eyes could cause are tempting. But the idea of scaring off the only person willing to teach them elvish, however, is a different matter -  _ so is them seeing her for what she is  _ but she swallows that down and tells themselves that the cost of intimidation is just the loss of a teacher and nothing more.

They settle for a harsh glare.

“I’m a fast learner.”

Bayleaf stares for a moment, looking them over as if he is debating something. He spots the harsh serious gleam in their eyes and is almost relieved to see that Dia is not playing an odd joke on him. They’re  _ serious. Dead serious.  _ If Dia really is going to want to learn (and he  _ is  _ getting paid), he may as well try his best to teach them. And if good teaching earns him a little extra when it’s all said and done then...

“Alright. We’ll get started as soon as I actually manage to get a drink.”

Bayleaf’s mild frustration toward the lack of service begins to seep into his tone and voice, and it does not go unnoticed by Dia. Dia glances over toward Jeb, who despite being in an animated conversation with the bartender looks their way tentatively. His eyes don’t seem to have the same spark in them when he looks over Bayleaf, his eyes focusing too long on the ears, before he gives Dia a hesitant smile and turns back to his conversation. The bartender, however, looks their way but their lips thin and they don’t give any sign of acknowledgement as they turn back to Jeb.

“Oi,” Dia whistles sharply and they relish, just a bit, in the way it makes the bartender jump, “Need another drink over here.”

The bartender seems to snap toward them as if he had just remembered that Dia is sitting at the bar. He doesn’t even glance toward Bayleaf, settling instead on focusing simply on Dia, who has their mug tipped his way. He refills it quickly, but still hasn’t acknowledged the man beside them.

“Him too,” Dia nods toward Bayleaf, who looks at them with a bit of caution. Dia glances at him through the corner of their eyes and then, after a brief moment of hesitation, continues. “Add it to my tab.”

Their comment takes Bayleaf a bit off guard, but he is not about to argue against a free drink. The bartender turns toward Bayleaf tentatively, as if he doesn’t know how to act or what to say. His eyes are drawn to Bayleaf’s brashly colored hair before he focuses on the sharp point of Bayleaf’s ears.

  
“I don’t know what you elves like to drink,” the bartender’s tone is not quite friendly enough for Dia’s tastes as their knuckles go white against the handle of their mug.

Bayleaf rolls his shoulders to loosen the tension that is threatening to build up. Unfortunately, there is little he can do about the throbbing that is forming at his temples.

“I don’t know about other elves, but give me the hardest ale you have.”

Bayleaf’s tone is tense as he makes his order, but the bartender just gives a forced smile that puts Bayleaf on edge. He has a feeling that with the way this evening is going so far, he is going to need a  _ few _ of the hardest ales they have.

“Ah so this is the teacher you’ve been waiting for.”

Jeb pops up and breaks the tense silence that was beginning to fall across them. He seems oblivious to any tension, even though even he eyes Bayleaf with caution. Despite the fact that Jeb’s hand easily goes to Dia’s shoulder, he seems careful to not touch Bayleaf. 

“She’s been waiting for you, you know,” Jeb mildly scolds, “It’s not very nice to keep a pretty young lady waiting at the bar.”

Oh yes, Bayleaf is  _ definitely _ going to have a headache before the night is over.

“Well if the pretty young lady had happened to give me a  _ time _ then she wouldn’t have been waiting for so long.”

Bayleaf sends a pointed look in her direction, but Dia waves the comment off as Jeb looks him over with careful consideration before breaking out into a grin. He slaps Dia’s back so hard that it nearly tumbles them over.

“Ha! Well, can’t argue with that!”

Bayleaf squints, furrowing his brows before glancing toward Dia and mouthing a question,  _ who is he?  _ Dia shrugs and the vague answer only causes the hackles on Bayleaf’s neck to rise before Dia continue with a more direct answer. 

_ Jeb. Elam Cousin.  _ That made a bit more sense, Bayleaf can vaguely remember Elam sort of introducing them, and it at least puts Bayleaf at a little of ease now that he knows why Jeb looks so familiar. 

“Well, I won’t get in the way of your lessons! I’m always here at the bar if you ever need any friendly local guide!”

At the realization that Jeb is  _ always _ here, Bayleaf just  _ knows _ that he will most  _ definitely _ get in the way of the lessons.

* * *

The next week is full of slow words and carefully drawn elvish letters over drinks as the bar begins to become their regular spot to go over their lessons, with neither of them wanting to deal with any heckling from their party if they did it at camp. Of course, all of the ale that is at their ready is only a plus.

Bayleaf does not like to think too hard about what their tab looks like. After the first night, Dia made it clear that them buying his drinks is not going to be a regular thing since they are already paying him for lessons. Though opening a tab with the bartender proved to be a hassle, though Dia’s surprising vouch for him helped considerably, Bayleaf imagines that his own tab is at least a few good jobs worth by now. Dia’s tab is likely even higher.

They don’t sit at the bar, settling on the most well-lit table that they could find. After making sure the table’s counter is free of vomit, wet spots and other unknown substances, Bayleaf spreads out their supplies of papers and quills and the lesson begins.

“What’s this word,” Dia points to a word that Bayleaf had written down earlier.

“ _ Please,”  _ Bayleaf repeats the word in both elvish and common.

  
Dia repeats the word a bit sloppily, but fixes their pronunciation quickly. “ _ Please….  _ Why the fuck are you teaching me  _ please?” _

Dia’s hands move as they speak, barely missing their nearby mug. Bayleaf takes that moment to grab it, moving it further away from both Dia’s constantly moving hands and the limited amount of paper with a grimace. Until Dia buys the supplies themselves, he will be sure to keep the drinks a more suitable distance away.

“Because you need to learn your basics and some damn manners.”

Bayleaf waves a barmaid over offhandedly, already needing another drink.

“I have manners.”

Dia’s voice speaks of pride, and a touch of hurt, their chest puffed out.

“Limited manners, maybe, but knowing what to say to get you what you want isn’t the same thing.”

Dia visibly deflates, but hides it as best as they can despite the tenseness in their shoulders and the lock of their jaw. A part prepares for the worst, for the judgement, or a scolding while the other half already has a few smart comments and choice words at the tip of their tongue ready.

But Bayleaf meets Dia’s eyes without a sense of judgement despite the bit of frustration that seeps into his tone. He speaks simply, as if he’s just stating the facts, and he should. There’s no point in trying to act as if either of them are decent living beings. He knows exactly the type of person Dia is and they are dangerous. They  _ both  _ are.

“Speaking the way you do won’t work the same in Elvish. Traditional elves especially. The former speech, manners, honorifics and knowing exactly the right grammer, is how you get what you want. Being overly polite gets you a lot farther than just normal manners. If you want me to teach you elvish, then this is where we are starting.”

Despite the fact that his patience is beginning to wear thin, Bayleaf tries his best to explain as simple as he can as he reminds himself that he still needs the other half of his ‘tutoring’ payment. Dia settles down at his comment at least, merely frowning sightly as Bayleaf whispers a quick thank you to the barmaid for the new drink.

“And for fuck’s sake, Dia, we aren’t even a  _ week  _ into this,” Bayleaf reminds them as he takes a much needed drink.

  
  


A month into their lessons, Dia can at least carry a simple conversation. Their trips on words are limited, but perfection with simple words is the foundation for learning the language. But Bayleaf supposes that it is  _ something  _ and while simple, it is at least above a small child’s level. The more he can teach Dia, the higher his second payment is going to be. 

The hardest part, he quickly finds out, is that conversing in elvish with Dia is difficult when neither of them want to say the first word.

  
“How’s the lessons going,” Jeb doesn’t even hesitate to sit down at their table. “I’m still not sure what language it is, but I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time.”

“It’s elvish and it’s more complicated than it looks.”

Bayleaf’s eyes darken, glancing over at Dia as if he can’t believe that they divulge that information so easily and quickly. Though if Dia notices his glare, they don’t comment on it. With a tense sigh, he glances toward Jeb, who in turn, is looking over the elvish written on the papers. His brows are furrowed and he tries to mouth some of the letters, despite how wrong he is on what they supposedly sound like.

“Well,” Jeb begins and Bayleaf finds himself hoping that Jeb isn’t going to try to read the script aloud and butch it, but Jeb just laughs, “It definitely looks complicated, can’t make heads or tails of it! If she’s making such good progress, makes me wonder if she’s just that good of a student or are you that good of a teacher?”

Bayleaf doesn’t offer a reply, unsure of how to respond and how sincere Jeb’s statement is, but Dia takes the reigns as they glance between Jeb and Bayleaf.

“Both,” Dia finally settles on and it satisfies Jeb, who takes it in stride with a smile.

But the comment stays in Bayleaf’s head even as Jeb leaves and they continue their lesson.

* * *

Three months into their lessons, Dia is speaking more fluently than Bayleaf actually thought that they would be capable of. Not quite perfect, and he highly doubts that Dia will be giving any big, inspirational monologues in elvish just yet, but it is more than he expected of them. Their accent still needed a bit of tweaking and he needs to focus their lessons more on writing the elvish letters now.

Dia sits at the table, talking more in elvish than Bayleaf had heard them even speak in common. He sits back and just listens, offering a few corrections here and there that they catch on quickly, taking each correction with stride.

He watches them carefully, noting the ignited fire in their eyes and the passion they speak each word with. He closes his eyes, just listening to Dia speak and offering soft-spoken corrections until he hears the familiar heart laugh of Jeb. He debates about opening his eyes to check when he hears someone pulling up a chair at their table, but he doesn’t need to check when he hears Jeb’s voice.

“I thought this was supposed to be a study lesson, not nap time!” 

Bayleaf hears Dia’s soft chuckle and he sighs, “Don’t encourage him, Dia, or he’ll never leave.”

Bayleaf’s eyes shot open as Jeb slaps him on his back hard enough to knock the wind of him. Bayleaf coughs, trying to get the air back into his lungs, glaring lightly at the way both Dia and Jeb begin to laugh.

“HA! You know you don’t want me to leave!”

* * *

  
  


It was a bad day for the both of them, a job not going as well as they would have liked makes their lessons tense and full of frustration with their conversations being short and crass. When it’s clear that Dia isn’t even trying to write the letters correctly, Bayleaf snaps at them harshly, wondering what is the point of them being there if they’re not even going to try.

Dia doesn’t meet Bayleaf’s gaze, refusing to look in his direction as they fiddle with the string necklace around their neck.

Bayleaf glances at Jeb when the man comes by with a hesitant expression, sitting down at their table with three fresh mugs of ale in his hand. He looks between them, as if he’s trying to decide what happened while he was gone with furrowed brows. Bayleaf immediately takes the offered mug with relish, chugging half of it in one go while Dia’s mug sits untouched. However, when the barmaid brings by another plate of PBJ sandwiches, the entire plate is completely claimed by Dia.

“That’s the third plate of sandwiches,” Jeb breaks the silence, “I didn’t know adventurers had such big appetites.”

Jeb gives a full bellied laugh as he tries to take one of the sandwiches, only to have his hand swatted away by Dia. 

“He’s right,” Bayleaf comments nonchalantly, “I didn’t think you would be such a big fan of those.”

Dia stops mid-bite, setting their food down with a grimace before they look toward Bayleaf with eyes that look a bit too haunted. He knows that look - the melancholic, reminiscing gleam in the eyes when memories surface in your mind and you’re struggling to figure out if you’re going to swim through the waves or drown in them. 

He oddly wonders just which decision Dia will make. 

“They just bring back memories,” Dia’s voice is rough and dry.

They don’t offer any explanation beyond that and they don’t need to as Bayleaf puts away their supplies and decides the night is better spent getting hammered, a decision that Jeb is more than happy with as he calls out for the bartender to bring them something harder than ale.

* * *

When their lessons are finished, Dia hands him a small pouch and immediately, Bayleaf can feel the heavier difference between this batch of coins and the first. When he looks at her questioningly, Dia just offers a half-hearted shrug and a small smile.

“You’re a good teacher.”

The sincerity in their voice takes him back and he’s still stunned when Dia pats him on the back as they leave the bar to join the rest of their party. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and heads to the bar. The last few jobs have paid well and he doesn’t plan on leaving his tab open when it’s no skin off his back to pay it off while he can. 

But he’s not prepared when the bartender shakes off the payment, refusing to take it as he shakes his head. 

“Oh no, that odd lil’ thing with the gray hair paid for both of your tabs.”

The bartender is quick to shut the conversation off, making it clear that he’s not too interested in having a long conversation with the elf. The bartender turns his back to Bayleaf as he turns to the paying customers, one of which is Jeb. 

Jeb gives him a big, sloppy grin and wave, trying to usher him over to join him, but Bayleaf can’t quite bring himself to drink as a heavy stone settles at the bottom of his gut as it turns. Bayleaf swallows thickly as he puts his money back into his pouch. Dia paying off his tab leaves him with more worries than relief, wondering just what they could want in return.


End file.
